


Triad

by JocastaSilver



Series: Legacy Series [2]
Category: Star Wars Legends: Knights of the Old Republic II: The Sith Lords
Genre: Boss Battles, Gen, Self-Reflection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-27
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-05-23 10:50:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6114205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JocastaSilver/pseuds/JocastaSilver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is time for the Exile to face the Triumvirate, but what where their thoughts on this mysterious Jedi who had eluded them for so long?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Nihilus

It had been almost a decade since the being now known as Darth Nihilus, or the Lord of Hunger, had felt anything besides his hunger pangs. Now they gaped within him like a canyon, longing and screaming to be satisfied. What little self control he possessed was all that kept him from consuming his crew. He only needed to hold on until they reached Telos. Telos, where the man had said the group of Jedi would be.  
Jedi, just the name made his hunger pangs pulsate. The one time he had come across a gathering of both Jedi and Miraluka, he had gone away full and satisfied, for a short time. He had also gained an apprentice in the young Miraluka. What was her name? Visas? Yes, it was Visas Marr. She had been a valuable asset to his small group, which was why he had never given in to her pleas for him to take her life. In fact, he had grown somewhat attached to the young woman. He wondered where she was now. She had not reported back to the Ravager in weeks. He shrugged. Sometimes, she did take a long time to get back from her missions.  
For now, he anticipated the moment when he could finally feed, and slacken his hunger for a time. And yet, after each feeding, his hunger always grew worse. “Your hunger is a source of erosion, not strength apprentice,” Traya had taunted him. “It will be your undoing.”  
It was because of her taunting that he had gone along with Sion’s plan to kill her. Not that it had done anything since she apparently had survived and had taken on a new apprentice. Sion had tried to slay him then saying their alliance was at an end.  
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….  
“The Jedi Order has been finished,” Sion announced after striding on to his bridge uninvited. “I did what with all your power you could not.”  
“You would not be wise to underestimate my power Sion,” Nihilus growled. He really hated it when other beings patronized him. They were just jealous of his power.  
“There is more,” Sion continued. “Darth Traya yet lives. You did not kill her as you assumed.”  
Nihilus shrugged, or did a slight movement that was his equivalent. His hunger was beginning to growl within him, screaming to be filled. “I’m not surprised. She was always the strongest of us. That was why you could not defeat her without my assistance.”  
“Our alliance is finished,” Sion declared. “I have no need of you.”  
“As if you could have wiped an entire group of Jedi in one single breath, you will always be dependent on me and my power.” The hole within him that was his hunger was growing worse, widening and screaming to be sated.  
“I have never needed you,” Sion countered. He drew his crimson bladed lightsaber and attacked.  
This was the end strike that unleashed Nihilus. He fed from the all the gathered Sith Assassins that Sion had brought with him. For a moment he felt a satisfaction that always for a short time occurred when he fed. But even that was coupled with a slight cutting pain, as if each feeding took away a part of his essence. But he had learned a long time ago to ignore it, and not wince in pain. He pulled Sion in, thrashing him up and down like a youngling’s stuffed doll. He reached in and attempted to feed, but found no pulsing blue life to feed on. Instead, he felt a deep hatred that burned fiery hot within him. Just as he was dependent on his hunger, Sion’s hatred was the only power that kept him from dying. But, there was something else. A slight feeling that was not anger, a kind of longing for a female with brown hair and open gentle blue eyes. The Exile! This shock forced him to release his hold on Sion who crashed, face forward onto the bridge’s floor.  
Sion stood, unsteadily. He unsheathed his saber and went for another strike.  
“Do not test my patience further Sion,” he growled. “You have already sickened me with your attachment to the Exile.”  
Sion did not reply to his accusation and instead turned away, and walked off the bridge. Nihilus let him go. He was certain to Sion would not try anything on him anytime soon. Not when he was obsessed with finding the Jedi Exile.  
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….  
A sudden warning in the Force pulled him from his memories. He heard several sets of feet approaching fast. Nihilus turned and was faced with three beings. There was a figure in the back who wore silver armor, and a helmet. In the center and front stood a young woman with brown hair and blue eyes, the same blue eyes from Sion’s memory. And there to her right was Visas. In a flash, he knew. She had betrayed her, brought these beings here to kill him. But why had she done this? She had never shown any signs of ambition, or had never made plans to do away with him. He growled, imprisoning the two women in balls of light.  
“I have come of my choice,” the Exile blurted out. “Visas is not a part of this.”  
“No!” Visas gasped. “Do not harm her. I am the one… who has betrayed you. I am the one who should suffer. I will return to you. But please… do not harm her. Do not what you did to me. I beg of you.”  
Nihilus scoffed. How could she beg, when she had betrayed him to the Exile, turning her back on her duty to him? He ignored her and turned to the Exile. He had sensed her presence faintly at one point, and now he sensed the power and life within her at close quarters. Power that made his hunger scream all the louder. Why did Visas follow her?  
“Her loyalty is to me now,” the Exile stated as she could read his mind. “And your battle is with me.”  
He Force pushed Visas away. She was of no further use to him. Not when she had clearly chosen the Exile. But Nihilus’ hunger had reached a breaking point now. He had to feed or weaken and die. “Where are the other Jedi?” he growled.  
“There are no Jedi,” the Exile replied. “Kreia has lied to you.”  
“I must find Jedi to feed on!”  
“If you would feed on Jedi, then feed on me.”  
His hunger was now unbearable. He reached out to feed on the Exile, and in a flash, he saw. Darkness and the screams of so many lives snuffed out in once second. He saw a wound within in her, a strange distorted mirror of himself. But that could not be. For a moment, he remembered. The capital ship he was on being pulled into the orbit of the planet. The shock turning to terror, as the ship crashed into the surface of the planet.  
Nihilus surfaced, his hands on the floor, panting. How could this be possible?  
“Even now, the hunger is consuming you,” the Exile taunted. “Just as Kreia knew it would.”  
Nihilus stood, and growled, igniting his lightsaber in the process. The Exile and Visas attacked, giving him very little room to maneuver. He was barely keeping his strength by draining life from each of them. At least that seemed to work. However, all three were able to work well as a team to overwhelm him. He reached through his link to Visas that was still there, and used that to anticipate her moves. Strangely, this also allowed him to block the Exile’s moves also. The fighters broke away, gasping in air.  
“He is too powerful. He.....”  
“Stay with me Visas,” the Exile encouraged her. “We can defeat him… Somehow.”  
“I…will try,” Visas managed to gasp out before renewing her attack on Nihilus. The others quickly followed suit, and Nihilus once again found himself overwhelmed by his three adversaries. He did not see or sense the blaster bolt that came from the helmeted figure until it crashed into his chest. His blood spurted, and the last thing he thought was that this darkness he was falling into was not unlike that of the planet that had consumed his soul almost a decade before.


	2. Sion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's Sion's boss battle. I hope y'all enjoy it.  
> Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars, never have and never will.

He is waiting for her now. The one who was once Meetra Surik, now known as the Jedi Exile was coming. Kreia had ordered him to fight her. “Show her every respect when she enters these halls Lord Sion. This I command you.”  
He glared. It was infuriating. After all this time, he was still bound to the old witch. Her voice continued to crawl in his head, giving him orders and manipulating him. He was her puppet. That was why he had to warn Surik, to protect her so that Kreia could not break her and make her into a voiceless puppet to her will.  
As he remembered those lovely blue eyes, his hatred began to slip away. The gray stone that was his body began to break apart and disintegrate. He yelled. This was her fault that his tenuous grip on life was slipping away. His fiery hatred for Surik was painful, but it was through that pain that the fragments that were his body fused back together into one. He hated Surik just as much as he, in his own way, loved her. Their meeting in the old Sith Academy on Korriban was burned into his mind, in a way that even pain could not take away.  
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………....  
As Sion meditated, he sensed the approach of the one he had been searching for, the Jedi Exile. He was not surprised that she had come here. No doubt she had been seeking the Jedi Master that he had killed. The woman had been somewhat clever, but in the end, she was no match for his power. Why she had chosen the Sith Academy as her hiding grounds? Did it not occur to her that this place was a site of frequent pilgrimages for Sith? Perhaps the woman had thought that all of the Sith had been killed when the Star Forge had been destroyed. But the reasons why the woman had been here did not matter. He focused his attention back on the issue of Surik. She was Kreia’s new apprentice and the last of the Jedi. Once she was gone, the Jedi ways would fall and he would be avenged on Kreia and her manipulative ways. He stood and walked towards her as she entered the central room of the old Sith Academy.  
“Did you come here for answers? There are none,” he declared. “The call of Korriban is strong, but it is the call of the dead. I have studied you, immersed myself in you. I know the paths you walked in exile. I know your teacher. I know the fires that raged upon the Dxun moon while the Republic died around you. You know war. You know battle. And I know of Malachor. You know what it means to be broken. The one who travels with you will destroy you as she did me. I can end it before it begins.” He admitted that she might know of battle, but she was just a Jedi. And in Sion’s experience, most Jedi were weak and easy to kill.  
“How do you know Kreia?” Surik asked.  
Sion suppressed a smile. Did she honestly think that he was going to willingly give her a straight answer? “I know her as an apprentice knows there Master…and as a Master knows an apprentice.”  
“What does Kreia want with me?”  
Sion hid his shock. Surik, instead of asking pointless questions about his past, was asking about Kreia, up front. “She clings to hope. That perhaps she can train one as great as her first. She is a fool who escaped death once; she will not do so again.”  
“I will not let you harm her,” Surik declared.  
Sion scoffed. How could this weak Jedi prevent him from striking back at his old master? And what was so special about this Jedi that Kreia had sought her out for training? “But you do not know her as I do. You have not survived her teachings, as I have. And you have not bested in her battle as I have. You are nothing. Yet still she walks with you. Is willing to sacrifice herself for you! You are a wretched thing, a thing of weakness and fear. You are her apprentice in name only. I am the master. And that is why you will die.”  
He drew his lightsaber, as the two Sith Assassins with him raised their staffs. He slashed and was blocked by Surik, who had quickly drawn a silver double bladed lightsaber. Sion was shocked. He had not seen a double blade since the one wielded by Exar Kun himself. He covered his shock by slashing once again at her. Surik pivoted, dodging his blow, and striking back with one of her own. He barely had time to parry, before she struck again, aggressively attacking him with slash after slash, until at last, he was dead. Or he would have been dead had he not reached out and used his hatred to heal himself. It raged within him like a fire, a painful charring fire. But Sion had learned to use that pain to his advantage, so he would never die. Still he was shocked. How long had it been since he had faced in opponent that forced him to regenerate himself? Not since the last Jedi War, when there had been a Togruta male who had almost killed him.  
To his complete surprise, instead of continuing to fight, Surik disengaged, and fled, her companions running right behind her. When the two assassins made a move to follow, Sion stopped them. “Do not harm her!” he ordered. “I command it. She…has earned this. She and I will meet again.”  
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….  
And yet, as he continued to hunt her across the galaxy, he began to be drawn to her. Certainly, he admired her resilience and aggressive stance that was very un-Jedi-like. And yet, she was still compassionate, giving even to those who could give her nothing back. Perhaps, that was why Kreia chose her. Because, Surik was neither Sith nor Jedi, but was a strange and bizarre mix of the two. And perhaps, that was why her beautiful blue eyes were stuck on her mind. And what would it be like to run his hands through her light brown hair? Had he ever felt this way before about anyone? No not even when he fought in the Exar Kun War as a fierce and arrogant Sith Marauder. Although, he had blurry memories of time he was whole, before that Jedi struck him down.  
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….  
He felt shocked as the green blade slashed across his chest, spewing blood. How had he, Sion, the Lord of Pain been defeated after all this time of fighting in the war, his hand covered in the blood of many weak Jedi who had fallen to his blade. The human male looked on calmly at him as if he were dying, which he wasn’t.  
“That is the way of the dark side Sith,” the Jedi spoke condescendingly. “All things end in death.”  
“No!” a voice screamed within Sion. This could not be. Not when he had fought so hard, and gained so much in the war. But it was. He could feel the room around him slowly fading away. “No!”  
With the last of his strength, he reached into his anger and hate, and poured it through, willing his body to heal. Scorching fire burned through him charring all of his organs, yet he refused to give up. With this strength he called back his lightsaber and sprang to his feet, stabbing the Jedi through the chest, not unlike the way he himself had been killed.  
The Jedi stood for a moment, gray eyes wide in shock, before collapsing on to the ground. And in that moment, he swore that none would slay him. No he would live forever, as the immortal Lord of Pain.  
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….  
Usually, the thought of his would-be killer would fuel the fires of hatred within him, helping to keep the fractured pieces that were his body together. But today, a young face with brown hair and blue eyes was invading his mind, and would not allow his hatred to remain strong. He hated the Exile for the way she crawled into his mind, and yet, he also pitied Surik. She had been manipulated by Kreia, but at least she was still able to make her own choices. That would change when Kreia broke him. This was why he had followed Kreia’s orders to wait for Meetra here in the Trayus Academy, just outside the entrance to the Core.  
As she approached one of the doors, he intercepted her, blocking her path.”You should not have come to Malachor. She will break you, your mind, your body, you will be lost. Return to the surface. Let the planet claim you, as it claimed the other Jedi. There is no reason for you to suffer at her hands.”  
Surik looked confused. “Are you showing me mercy?”  
Sion suppressed a laugh. Did she honestly think that he, a being completely devoted to the Dark Side would show mercy? “It is not mercy. What awaits you will weaken you. She will break you, as she did me. And you will no longer know yourself.”  
“Then why are you telling me this?” Surik demanded.  
Strangely, Sion found he could not act coy around her, and found himself revealing the truth. “You and her are alike,” he mused. “Yet different in all the ways that matter. And I hate you as I hate her. I hate you, because you crawl within my head as she does, but your presence holds no thoughts, no teachings. You are just…there unspoken. I hate you, because you are beautiful to me. And in that weakness lies death. Perhaps, in that weakness is the death of my master as well.”  
“What is Kreia’s weakness Sion?”  
Sion laughed inwardly. Had she really not figured it out for herself after all this time? “What it has always been. Her weakness is you.”  
“Kreia told me your will is what holds you together,” Surik stated cautiously.  
Sion suppressed a sigh. “It is through the power of the dark side and pain of my anger that I am able to live when so many others around me died.”  
Surik weighed her decisions before speaking. “I’m not turning back. Stand aside.”  
Sion shook his head. “I cannot. If you pass, you shall not return as you are now. Return to Malachor, or go through me. There is no middle ground.”  
“Then let us end this,” Surik said simply. “I bear no hatred for you Sion but I must pass.”  
Sion laughed inside. He had done all he could to save her, and she had turned him down. Now he had to kill her. There was no other way. Perhaps, he had always known that it would end like this. “I am ready for you exile. I have waited years to see the last of the Jedi fall before me. To join the rest that lie buried within this planet’s core.”  
He drew his red bladed lightsaber and unsheathed it. “The end of the Jedi is at hand.”  
He struck, but Surik had quickly unsheathed her own double bladed weapon and blocked him. She dodged his next attack, and used the left side of her weapon to strike back. Sion quickly found himself becoming exhausted by her furious attacks. Fortunately, he was able to use this frustration to burn through his body, and “heal” himself.  
He chuckled. “Now you know the true power of the Dark Side. As long as the dark places of this world flow through the cracks of my flesh I cannot be killed.”  
“But you can be defeated,” Meetra replied simply, before attacking him with her weapon. Sion was quick to block, but he recognized new strength within Meetra that he had not noticed before. She had clearly grown stronger since their first encounter. Once again he found himself almost out of energy and forced to regenerate.  
“You are strong,” he observed. “As strong as I had believed. But she knows you cannot defeat me. Surrender now. Return to the surface of Malachor. Do not force to destroy you.”  
“She’s only using you to test me Sion,” Surik stated, her blue eyes looking into his right eye.  
“Should you die, she will be forced to keep me as her apprentice. My training shall be complete as was intended.”  
“She is only deceiving you. And stop deceiving yourself.”  
Her words were so persuasive that he almost believed her. Then he shook himself. “You are only trying to make me doubt myself.”  
He quickly slashed at her, but Surik was quick to block. She continued to fight him. Sion unleashed blue Force lightning from his fingers. But Surik quickly caught and absorbed the lightning, sending it in a hurricane of strength against him. Sion was caught by surprise as the lightning burned through his body. He hated her, and yet he could not help but feel impressed by Surik’s skills. She was clearly strong in the Force. And yet, he could not let her face Kreia. He let his frustration once again heal him, and sheathed his blade.  
“If I die here,” he stated simply. “Then you will have sealed your fate.”  
“I am stronger then you expect, and stronger then Kreia expects. Let me confront her and we will see,” Meetra persuaded.  
She was right that she was strong in both lightsaber combat and the Force. And yet, he had nothing. What would he do with himself when Kreia was gone? He had been her puppet for so long that he could not survive on his own, as shameful as that admission was. “There is truth in your words, but there is nothing for me except my master.”  
Meetra nodded, understanding.  
“I fight because that is the power that the Force gives me,” Sion explained. “To survive, to inflict the pain on others. I can die a hundred times exile and still I will rise again as strong as before.”  
Now he had to end her life, to save her from Kreia. He struck with his blade, but Meetra was quick to block his strike. He fought furiously with all of his energy. But it was not enough. A slash from Meetra knocked his lightsaber from his hand and he fell to the floor. No, this could not be happening. “I will not fall,” he declared. “I cannot die.”  
Meetra had sheathed her own blade and kneeled in front of him. “You have fallen, and you are dead. You only must admit it.”  
“Why did she choose you?” he asked. “What makes you able to defeat me? Defeat me here.”  
“Because I was able to turn away from it, and you could not.”  
Sion could not understand. How had she survived Malachor when all those she cared about died around her? “It is not possible to walk away from such things unscarred, to keep living when the universe dies around you.”  
Meetra gently placed her hands on his shoulders. “To face death and keep standing, it leaves scars, yes. But it also leaves room to heal.”  
“The Force is who I am,” Sion tried to deny was she was saying. “The dark side fills me. It is what I am.” And it was all he had ever know his whole life.  
“The Force fills an empty shell,” Meetra said gently. “There is very little left of the man you once were Sion. You know this.”  
At last, he understood her. And for the first and last time, he did not try to fight his feelings for her. He gazed into her beautiful blue eyes, and when he ran one of his hands through her soft silky hair, she removed a hand from his shoulders, and gave the hand a reassuring squeeze.  
“What kind of life did you live with the Force flowing through you?” she asked finally.  
Sion sighed. He had wasted most of his life living in hatred. Only now did he realize his mistake. “It was not. No matter how many I killed, the pain continued to flow through me.”  
“Kreia,” he suddenly remembered. “She will try to break you, to teach you how far someone can fall.”  
And yet, somehow, he felt that Meetra would be more than a match for Kreia. “Her weakness is you, as you were mine. I am glad to leave this place at last.” And finally Sion let go, and gave in to the soothing blackness.


	3. Kreia/Darth Traya

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's the final chapter of Triad. It is also carries over some plot points from Legacy, so if anything confuses you refer to that.

Traya sat meditating. Not to draw from the Force, for she hated the Force and its manipulative ways. But to wait, patiently, for Surik to come to her. Finally, after months of training and hardships, it was all at an end. And Traya could not help but be proud of her final apprentice. The void in the Force, Surik was capable of much. Now it was time to put those skills to the test. She had no doubt that Surik would easily kill the “students” of the Trayus Academy. Sion would be a challenge, but Traya knew Surik could defeat him. After all, she was the only being that Sion seemed almost attached to.  
Traya laughed. It was strange how Meetra completely and unconsciously drew others to her. She had heard the rumors of her talent for forging bonds, but hearing and seeing the effects of it were two very different things. She even found herself being drawn to Meetra in spite of herself. Meetra had in some ways reminded her of Revan, at least at first. But after a time, she realized that they could not have been more different. While Revan was calculative, Meetra was compassionate. Revan thirsted for knowledge. Meetra had shown some interest in their bond, but had only searched for information that might help end their link. Revan burning with life was like looking into the heart of the Force. Meetra on the other hand, as a wound in the Force forged of Malachor V, was the death of the Force. And yet, she loved them both equally, as if they were her own children. And that was why she had intervened, stopping the foolish Jedi Masters from stripping Meetra of her connection to the Force.  
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….  
As she stepped through old tunnel into the Jedi Enclave, Kreia could not help but stare at the decaying overgrown walls of the enclave, and the damaged fountain. It seemed almost a life time ago that she had fled from here, when the Jedi Council had exiled her. “It’s…it is different,” she admitted. “It has been some time.”  
She reached out and cautiously touched the stone. It was old, but sturdy, just as the Jedi had intended when they built it. She sat down and faced Meetra, who was eyeing her with a worried expression. Kreia felt almost sad that their apprenticeship was at an end. But, all good things must come to a conclusion.  
“Forgive me, but I need to rest. Go on…the Council awaits. I will remain here.”  
“You are afraid,” Meetra noticed.  
Kreia sighed. She had always struggled with hiding things from Meetra, certain parts of her past that she could not know about. Such was the downside of the bond she had created between them on Peragus. “Yes, afraid for you. As I always have been. I will be fine here. Whatever answers the Council have are for you alone.”  
“Is there anything wrong?” Meetra asked her eyes wide with concern.  
At times Kreia had found the girl’s excessive compassion to be an annoyance. But now, she found it to be strangely soothing. “I am…tired. The journey has been a long one. And I need to center myself.”  
“And be ready to intervene if the Council tries to harm you,” she thought. Kreia would not put it past the Council as it was to strip Surik of her light saber and exile her. But perhaps things might be different. Atris, who was most against Surik, was not present. Kavar had at one point informally mentored Surik. Zez-kai Ell had been more out spoken about the Jedi Council’s foolish wiping of Revan’s memories. Lonna Vash was dead at the hands of Sion, which was rather unfortunate since she was one of the cooler heads and often was calming down the rather passionate Atris. The one problem was of course Vrook Lamar. Kreia burned with hatred for the paranoid Jedi Master who had interfered with Revan’s training, banished her friend Arren Kae, exiled Surik, and had tried to exile her. Yes, she was rather disappointed that neither of her apprentices had rid the galaxy of that menace, but she needed him, for the time being. And yet, as Surik left, Kreia could not help but suppress a feeling of foreboding.  
“Know that much may happen here, but above all, do not forget this, you may trust in me. We cradle each other’s lives, and what threatens one of us, threatens us both. And if you find you cannot trust in me, trust in your training. Trust in yourself. Never doubt what you have done. All your decisions have brought you to this point.” The point that was in all essence, the beginning of the end, the culmination of everything that Kreia had spent weeks building up to this point. “And now perhaps,” she added to herself. “They shall see what you have become.”  
But she could not find peace. Instead she felt a sense of growing dread. Something was about to happen that would change everything. She felt the ripples of it through the Force. Meetra was in danger. She reached out, trying to connect with Meetra. She felt a strange duplicity as she saw through both her own and Meetra’s eyes. At first she was stunned as she truly saw without the aid of the Force for the first time in several years.  
The three Jedi Masters who stood before her, frowning. “It is because you are a leader, but that still fails to grasp the meaning of what I’m trying to tell you.” Kavar was speaking softly, almost guiltily.  
“Are you saying I am controlling them?” Meetra gasped in shock. “But I am a leader, a general no longer.” Kreia sighed. Of course Meetra would not see the benefits of this power, only its drawbacks.  
“Perhaps,” Vrook admitted. “But it is not that to which I am referring. Surely you are familiar with Force bonds. It is the bond that develops between a master and an apprentice when one truly understands another. It developed over time, through understanding of each other. Yet you do it so easily, and we do not know why.”  
Kreia chuckled. So even the “great” Jedi Masters were perplexed by Surik, this was quite laughable that they could not see something that was so simple.  
“You make connections with others through the Force,” Kavar stated. “And it resonates with those who travel with you. The resonance is even greater when they too are Force sensitive.”  
“You’re actions affect others more than you know. You draw others to you, especially those strong in the Force.” Zez-kai Ell seemed troubled by this revelation which puzzled Kreia. Did they not understand the possibilities of what Surik could do?  
“When you suffer, their spirit echoes it. And when they are in pain, their pain becomes yours,” Kavar explained.  
“How did this happen?” Surik asked.  
“We do not know,” Kavar replied. “But it is not the first time you’ve felt the weight of many lives.”  
“And that is why the Mandolorian Wars echo within you still,” Zez-kai Ell concluded.  
“So all those deaths at Malachor…?” Surik’s eyes widened in understanding.  
“We did not cut you off from the Force,” Vrook declared. “You were merely deafened to it, because of that last battle of the Mandolorian Wars.”  
“The screams of countless thousands of Jedi and Mandolorians, crushed by the planet’s gravity, annihilated.” Zez-kai Ell’s words sent a shiver down Kreia’s spine as she recalled the feeling of the many that had perished on Malachor V. And if it had hurt her, then it must have been deadly for one such as Surik.  
“Their lives still scream across the surface of that dead planet, and within you. To hear the Force over such pain…it is not possible.” Kavar shook his head for a moment before continuing. “It was too much for any Jedi to endure…and it is a wonder that you did not die there when thousands perished, all those you had fought and struggled with. You cut yourself off; because you had to if you were to survive. You had hints of it on the war in Dxun. Malachor was simply the final blow.”  
And at last Kreia knew why the Exile had cut herself off from the Force. Not for any lofty realizations about it, but for the simple act to save herself instinctively. But, it did not matter. The results were still the same.  
“You were deafened,” Vrook spoke.  
“At last you could hear,” Kreia murmured. The Exile had truly understood how to live without hearing the Force flowing through.  
“You were broken,” Kavar stated.  
“You were whole,” Kreia countered. It was through suffering that a being learned.  
“You were blinded,” Zez-kai Ell finished.  
“And at last, you saw,” Kreia realized that the Exile had seen the truth about the Force long before she did. And yet the Exile had immediately been anxious to gain back that same connection.  
“When you returned to us we saw what happened,” Vrook explained. “You carry all those deaths at Malachor with you. And it has left a whole, a hunger that cannot be filled.”  
“In you we saw a wound in the Force,” Kavar stated.  
“In you, we saw the end of the Force.” Zez-kai had spoken what Kreia knew to be true, but they seemed bothered by this fact.  
“But…that makes no sense,” Meetra stammered. “I can feel the Force again.”  
Kreia sighed. She could not believe that Meetra was still confused. It would be up to the Jedi Masters to fill her in on what this meant.  
“Yes,” Vrook stated. “You can feel the Force, but you cannot feel yourself. You are a cipher, forming bonds, siphoning their will, and dominating them. It is the teachings of these new Sith, to feed on others, on other Force sensitives. They are symptomatic of the wound in the Force. You are a breech that must be closed. You transmit your pain, your suffering through the Force. Within you, we see something worse than merely the teachings of the Sith. What you carry may mean the death of the Force…and the death of the Jedi.”  
“But I can feel the Force strongly,” Meetra argued.  
“So you think,” Vrook spat. “It is not the strength of a Jedi you feel.”  
“He’s right,” Zez-kai Ell admitted. “It is all the death you’ve caused to get here. You feed on it and you grow stronger. You’re like Malachor…it’s in you; it’s what you are now. You must have noticed as you fought across all these planets killing hundreds, only to become more and more powerful. Why do you think that was?”  
“But what’s worse,” Kavar added. “Is that bonding you have, it hasn’t gone away. It’s gotten stronger, and the more attachments you form, the more you draw others to you.”  
“And that is why you are a threat to us all,” Vrook finished.  
“No!”Kreia surfaced in shock. She knew what they would do to Meetra, they would… she should have known they would not change their ways. There was only one thing she could do. She smirked slightly as she settled back and called to Mical.  
“You know what the choice is. If you don’t warn them, then the Republic will fall. All those countless lives, innocent lives.”  
“Or the one,” Mical moaned, as he turned on the com.  
Kreia surfaced again. Now that Mical was taken care of, she could and would deal with the pathetic members of the Jedi Council. Kreia moved quickly down the tunnels, allowing the hatred to propel her forward and compensate for her body’s weaknesses. Only, the Seer stood, blocking her path.  
“And so you wait,” the Seer stated simply. “As a shadow.”  
“Yes, we are alike that way blinded one,” Kreia replied, cursing the Miraluka for seeing her true identity.  
“I would have thought you would walk with her amongst the Jedi. But that is not the way of the Sith is it?”  
Kreia let loose her furry, choking the Seer. “Do not speak to me of the ways of the Sith. You of all of us have no conception of what it means to be Sith.”  
Reluctantly, Kreia released her hold on the Seer, who promptly collapsed. She walked to the end of the tunnel and waited.  
“Our judgment before remains exile. You must leave, and you must leave without your tie to the Force. It is a punishment reserved for only a few, and only when necessary, but we have the power to cut you off from the Force, and it must be done.”  
“Forgive us, but it is necessary,” Kavar said. Kreia scoffed. Yes, as if stripping the Exile of the Force would solve all their problems.  
“I won’t give up the Force,” the Exile protested. “Stop this.”  
“Do not be afraid,” Vrook said as they stopped Meetra from fleeing. “You shall feel no pain, but this must be done. As long as you feel the Force you are a danger to those around you.”  
That was what set Kreia off. Her hair darkened slightly and her eyes were transformed from their usual milky white to black pits of hatred. “Enough!” she yelled, pushing the Jedi Masters back, forcing them to release their hold on Surik, who promptly fell face forward into the grass.  
“Step away from her,” Traya ordered, pulling down the hood of her outer robe.  
“What-?” Vrook had barely gotten to his feet when Traya force pushed him back down.  
“Step away!”Traya yelled. “She has brought truth and you condemn it. The arrogance! You will not harm her. You will not harm her ever again.”  
“I thought you had died in the Jedi Civil War.” Kavar stood shocked.  
“Die? No. Became stronger, yes.”  
“Is this your new master exile? If so then you follow Revan’s path. Her teachings will cause you to fall as surely as he did,” Vrook had quickly recognized his old enemy.  
“She is difficult to see,” Zez-kai Ell noted. “She’s like a shadow of the exile. We sought to lure the Sith out and now they have come to us.” Zez-kai Ell drew his violet double bladed lightsaber and unsheathed it.  
Traya laughed. They were weak fools if they thought they stood a chance against her. “How could you ever hope to know the threat you face, when you have never walked in the dark places of the galaxy, faced war and death on such a scale. If you had traveled far enough, rather than waiting for the echo to reach you, perhaps you would have seen it for what it was.”  
She turned to Vrook. “Did you not hear its call on Dantooine, Vrook, on its scarred surface and in the minds of the settlers? I have endured your corruption of my other students; you shall not have this one.”  
“And you Kavar, so close to the call of Dxun. Did you not feel what poured from the moon, what had taken place there?” She laughed briefly before turning to face the last one.  
“And Zez-kai Ell, to hide upon Nar Shaddaa, yet blind yourself to all that happened there. So close to understanding the Force…so close to giving it up.”  
“There is a place in the galaxy where the Dark side of the Force runs strong. It is something of the Sith, but it was fueled by war. It corrupts all that walks on its surface, drowns them in the power of the Dark Side, it corrupts all life. And it feeds on death. Revan knew the power of such places, and the power in making them. They can be used to break the will of others, of Jedi, promising them power, and turning them to the Dark side. Did you never wonder how Revan corrupted so many of the Jedi, so many of the Republic so quickly? The Mandolorian Wars was a series of massacres that masked another war, a war of conversion. Culminating in a final atrocity that no Jedi could walk away from, save one. And that is what I sought to understand. How one could turn away from such power, give up the Force, and still live. But I see what happened now.” She knelt beside Meetra, checking her wrist for a pulse that beat strongly. Surik would live to see another day. “It was because you were afraid,” Traya added.  
Than she turned to the three Jedi Masters who stood frozen in shock. “As you would pass judgment on her, I have come to pass judgment on you all. Do you wish to feel the teachings of the Mandolorian Wars? Of all wars, of all tragedies that scream across the galaxy? Let me show you, you who have forever seen the galaxy through the Force. See it through the eyes of the exile.”  
They all charged her, but before they had taken more than a few steps, Traya unleashed volts of energy that drained them of the Force, burning their bodies out. All three collapsed on the ground, dead. Traya smiled, pulled up the hood of her cloak, and turned heading away. Suddenly, Brianna stood in her way blocking her path, her face visibly distraught.  
“What have you done to Meetra Surik?!” she demanded to know.  
“Foolish girl!” Traya thought. The handmaiden was lucky. It was only her old friendship with her mother that kept her from killing her. As it was she stared at the girl who was so much like Arren, yet so different.  
“The one you traveled with is dead,” Traya said, which was partially the truth, since Surik was in a sense dead to the world at the moment.  
“Then you have killed her!”  
“No,” Traya replied. “It was the Jedi Masters who slew her. I was unable to prevent them, but they have paid the price for their arrogance.”  
Brianna turned, noticing the three bodies for the first time. “You killed them!”  
“Then you must conclude,” Traya persuaded subtly. “That I am a Sith, and therefore you must take me to your mistress.”  
Brianna nodded. As the handmaiden led Traya to the Onderon shuttle that had previously been used by Kavar, she smiled. It was time for her daughter’s friend to be tested.  
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….  
Traya had sensed some time ago, that Brianna had finally won and had reclaimed her lost name. She smiled. Even now, with more pressing matters at hand, she still took the time to feel pride for her friend’s daughter. She half wished she had let Vrook Lamar live, so he would see the successes of the child of the one he had so heartlessly cast out. But, perhaps the greatest thing Brianna did for her was to take her to Atris.  
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
“It is time for all of this to end,” Traya murmured as she stepped out of the shuttle and into the Telos Academy.  
“I’ll stay with the ship,” Brianna offered. “It would not be wise to anger Atris.”  
For a moment, Traya stared at her old friend’s daughter. She had a feeling that this would be the last time she would get to speak with the girl fully. And yet, how could she explain to her about her friendship with Arren? She doubted the girl would believe any of the words that came out of her mouth.  
“All beings must face problems and obstacles and solve them,” she explained. “To avoid one’s problems in life is not a life worth living.”  
Brianna nodded, but still headed back into the shuttle. Traya moved on. Brianna would face both her sisters and Atris, whether she wanted to or not. She easily sneaked past the handmaidens who vigilantly patrolled the hallways. As she entered the meeting room of the academy Traya snorted. Atris clearly was trying to duplicate the appearance of the Jedi Council meeting room on Coruscant. It was rather ridiculous, considering what she had done to them on Katarr. But that no longer mattered. What was important was that Atris’ teachings had to be ended. Traya stepped across the bridge that led to another chamber that emanated with dark energy. The door clicked open easily, and Traya walked inside. The walls of the chamber were covered in bright red Sith holocrons. It was easy to understand now how Atris had fallen. Even now, they whispered to her, tempting her with secret knowledge. But Traya had enough will to shake off their temptation.  
“Who is there?” Atris asked, slightly nervous.  
Traya laughed. “Who I am is not the question.”  
“I am Atris Jedi master,” Atris stated as if she had rehearsed this speech many times. “The last historian of the Jedi…the last of the Jedi.”  
“Those are titles you cling to as the darkness falls around you,” Traya retorted. “It is not the first time we have met Atris, I was here…before.”  
“With the exile?” Now Atris was clearly flustered that a strong Force sensitive had sneaked under her radar without her noticing.  
“Yes. I was here both times when the exile was brought before you.” It was almost satisfying to say it now.  
“Who are you?”  
“I am the one who asked him to be exiled.”  
“You, you seem familiar,” Atris mused, as if she almost guessed that the maverick historian who she had always despised was before her. “You are that which has attacked the Jedi…you are Sith.” And yet, she did not raise her blade against her.  
“‘Sith’ is a title yes,” Traya replied. “But like you, that title is not who I am. It is not what I believe. For you, it is different. Know that there was once a Darth Traya. And that she cast aside that role, was exiled, and found a new purpose. But there must always be a Darth Traya, one that holds the knowledge of betrayal. Who has been betrayed in their heart and will betray in turn. You have bathed in the knowledge of the Sith. But there is not enough truth in such teachings…but it will be a step for you. You have gathered Sith holocrons, Sith teachings from across the galaxy. That is why you have chosen servants who cannot feel the Force. And most importantly, they cannot feel what you have become.”  
“I have sought to preserve the Jedi Order…and I have gathered all that I know of the Sith to this place, so that I might find them, and stop them.” Even now, Atris still refused to believe the truth. But Traya was patient. The foolish woman would see the truth soon enough.  
“I had wondered if any of these holocrons had survived Dantooine,” Traya observed as she felt the faint approach of one of her traitorous apprentices. Soon, he would be killed, and that part of the plan would be enacted. “You have taken relics from one destroyed planet to the devastation of another.”  
“It was always intended for the Jedi to retreat back to Telos should Dantooine be attacked, taking all their lore with them,” she reminded her. “We could not allow the tragedy of Ossus to happen again.”  
“Such an act marked Telos for destruction, though the fleet commanders did not know why. It is why Malak ordered its destruction to mark the beginning of the Jedi Civil War. It was a message that there would be no place for Jedi to retreat, no place to hide. I would not be surprised if Malak left other gifts beneath the surface of the planet, much can be buried beneath graveyards that will never be found.” It had been something she had not expected of Malak, to show a hidden message along with brute force. But then again, he had been the apprentice of her former pupil.  
“When the Sith attacked, I felt Telos die,” Atris admitted. “Turbolasers fell like lightning upon the landscape. As they did on Dantooine. And so many died…so many voices screaming in pain.”  
“Yes. Such acts leave their marks upon the galaxy. Their cries travel far, though few can hear them.”  
“How did it happen?” Atris asked in despair, finally seeing the truth of her fall.  
“Search your heart,” Traya implored her. “It was never battle that called to you. Never battle that caused you to fall. Malachor V has touched many things, and it casts its echoes still.”  
“Why did she betray me?” she gazed helplessly into the distance like a lost kath hound.  
Traya laughed. Even now, Atris still casted blame on other beings apart from herself. “You betrayed yourself. Do not blame Meetra. And unlike you and I, there is still a chance that one may be saved. The one that you cast out.”  
“Where is Surik?” asked Atris. “I had thought-.”  
“Oh she will come. But it will be too late to save either of us.” It was ironic, that she could save Surik, but Surik could not save her. “It is such a quiet thing to fall,” she mused as she left. “But far more terrible is to admit it.”  
As Traya exited the chamber, she noticed two of the Echani sisters were blocking her path. “You’re mistress awaits, she has much to share with you,” she informed them. Both sisters stared for a moment, but then immediately moved past her to receive their mistress’s new orders. She smiled as she stepped up the ramp into the shuttle and noticed that Brianna was absent. That was good. She prepped the shuttle and took off, setting a course for Malachor V. It was time to tie up the last of the loose ends.  
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….  
As she meditated, she reflected on how ironic it was that her other apprentice had been brought down, not through battle, but through love. But, perhaps Surik’s way of drawing Force sensitives to her had been a factor. It was still strange to feel a kind of contentment pour off Sion as he died. But it no longer mattered. She had avenged herself on her betrayers as well as destroying the Jedi Council. Now the only thing left was to give Surik her final test, to see if she truly understood the Force. She smiled to herself as Surik approached her, although the girl looked a little annoyed.  
“At last you have arrived,” she greeted her former pupil. “Is Malachor as you remember it?”  
“Malachor has not changed,” Surik replied. “Only you have.”  
Traya laughed. “Indeed. Perhaps it is merely your perceptions of me that have changed. It is strange that you believe Malachor has not. But it has always been timeless to you, this place. And words have always been inadequate for the horrors that took place here.  
“This Academy here won’t last Kreia,” Surik declared. “I can activate the Mass Shadow Generator again.”  
“More talk of machines and threats,” Traya scoffed at Surik’s foolish plan. “If you would end Malachor, then do it. But it will not be a victory for you. And of course, you must be willing to die, to kill us all, and your friends. You may hold Malachor in your grasp, but I hold the answers to your past and future in mine. Would you destroy us both before learning them? If so, then do it-for you have already failed me.”  
“Why did you destroy Atris?” Surik had finally stopped making pointless threats.  
“I never destroyed Atris,” Traya explained. “She had destroyed herself. I merely stripped away the illusion and brought her truth. Her teachings could not be allowed to continue. And like Malachor, she was a part of your past, unresolved. She needed to be something you could confront, and defeat, one last time. It was part of your training, part of what was needed to make you complete. And there must always be a Darth Traya. The galaxy needs its betrayers, especially in times to come. She loved you, you know, as one loves a champion. You were all that she could not be.”  
“She had never mentioned such feelings.” Surik looked confused and perhaps, a little sad.  
“Yes,” Traya replied. “It is all that is left unsaid upon which tragedies are built. More echoes traveling through the Force.”  
“Why have you done this?” Surik demanded, gesturing all around her to indicate that she wasn’t just talking about Atris.  
Traya was pleased that she had finally asked the question she herself had been burning to explain to help Surik see the truth. “It is said that the Force has a will, destiny for us all. I wield it, but it uses us all, and that is abhorrent to me. Because I hate the Force, I hate that it seems to have a will, that it would control us to achieve some measure of balance, when countless lives are lost. But in you…I see the potential to see the Force die, to turn away from its will. And that is what pleases me. You are beautiful to me Meetra. A dead spot in the Force, an emptiness in which its will might be denied.”  
“If you hate the Force, than why do you use it?” Surik countered.  
Traya was impressed that Surik would think to ask such a question. The girl had truly come far from when Traya had found Surik lying near death in the cargo hold of the Harbinger. “I use it as I would use a poison, and the hopes of understanding it, I will learn the way to kill it. But perhaps these are the excuses of an old woman who has grown to rely on a thing she despises.”  
“Why me?” Surik asked.  
“Perhaps you were expecting some surprise, for me to reveal a secret that had eluded you, something that would change your perspective of the events, shatter you to your core. There is no great revelation, no great secret. There is only you.”  
“But there were other Jedi you could have chosen,” Surik pointed out.  
Traya shook her head. How long would it take for Surik to realize how special she was? “No, there was not. In times past and in times future, there are Jedi who will stop listening to the Force, those who will try to forget it, but maintain unconscious ties. And those in the past, just as I, who have had the Force stripped from them. But no Jedi ever made the choice you did. To sever ties so completely, so utterly, that it leaves a wound in the Force. It was a mistake to try and make you feel it again, I see that now. There is no truth in the Force. But, there is truth in you Meetra, and that is why I chose you.”  
“You were manipulating me all along!” Surik accused, her blue eyes looked hurt and betrayed.  
Traya wanted to explain that she had always cared for Surik’s interests, but knew that the girl would not understand. “Yes, always. From the moment I awoke you, I have used you. I have used you so that you might become strong, stronger than I. And I used you to make those who wounded me reveal themselves so that they could be killed by the Republic.”  
“So you used me to get revenge on Sion and the others,” Surik observed.  
“I needed you to keep the Lords of the Sith from condemning the galaxy to death with their power unchecked,” Traya explained. “I used you to lure them to Telos, where they could be, at last, fought and killed. I used you to reveal Atris’ corruption, so that her teachings could be ended before they began. I used you to gather the Jedi so they could be destroyed. And I used you to make those who wounded me reveal themselves, so they could be killed by the Republic.”  
“What happens now?” Surik asked calmly as if the fate of the Force itself wasn’t at stake.  
“The apprentice must kill the master,” Traya explained. “If you do not, then I will kill you. If I do not, then all you will have achieved will be as nothing, as empty, and as violent as Malachor itself.”  
“Then let us end this,” Surik declared, drawing her double-bladed silver lightsaber.  
Traya quickly ignited her single red blade, and master and apprentice crossed blades. She was barely into the fight and she was already impressed by Surik’s skilled handling of the double blade. Most users were at a disadvantage when it came to taking on single opponents, but Surik clearly understood how to compensate for that through the lithe and aggressive movements, using one side to parry her attacks and the other side to launch an assault. It was something to even Traya herself could not pull off back when she was wielding the double blade. She launched Force lightning, which Surik instinctively deflected back to its owner. Traya blocked it, sending the sparks, shattering into one of the walls of the Trayus Core. She tried to imprison Surik in stasis, but she anticipated this, and dodged, attacking from the side so fast that Traya had only a second to deflect the blow. The next attack was fast, quickly cut through Traya’s remaining hand. Traya collapsed on her knees on the center of the core, exhausted.  
“Yield Kreia,” Surik urged. “You need not die.”  
“If you do not kill me, than I shall end you. Strike me down, end this.”  
“No,” Surik retorted. “Kreia you can still be redeemed, if you choose to be.”  
Traya was shocked to find tears streaming down her blinded eyes. She was in some ways shocked by how even after Surik had been manipulated; she still offered a path to redemption even if Traya knew she had to refuse. “I have thought of this moment more than you know. And I wondered if here, at this ending between us, if you would care enough to try and save me, if a Jedi could find it within themselves to save someone who had fallen so far. I wanted you to say those words, and for that I am grateful. But I do not want your mercy, I want you to break.”  
“No,” Meetra said simply. “This is already over. Your life is yours, Kreia…and you cannot teach me anymore.”  
Traya reached out and three violet lightsabers whirled to life in midair. “You will not show me mercy. I will see you break before you do.”  
This duel was harder, because she had to concentrate in order to keep all three lightsabers floating in attack. She could blurrily hear Meetra struggling to fend off all three of them. This was disappointing almost, because she knew Meetra would fail. She did not stand a chance against the barrage. And everything Kreia had worked, manipulated, and killed for was in vain.  
Suddenly, the side of a silver blade slashed across her chest, breaking her concentration. Free her control the trio of lightsabers clattered to the ground. There was pain in her chest, and yet all Kreia felt was a soaring joy. Meetra had done it. She had succeeded where so many others had failed. “It is done. At last, it is done. You are greater than any I have ever trained. By killing me here, you have rewarded me more than you can possibly know.”  
“Kreia,” Meetra intoned pleadingly. “There is still time to save you.”  
“Save me,” she chuckled, touched by her former pupil’s all encompassing love. “You already have, it is enough what you have done from now until the future.”  
“The future?” Meetra gave her an incredulous look.  
“Many things do I see as I gaze here at the heart of Malachor. This place channels such energies. If it matters to you, at this last moment, I shall look into the future and tell you of what I see. It is my last gift to you, from one exile to another.”  
“What will happen to my friends?”  
Kreia laughed. Even now, after all this time, Meetra was still blind to the truth. The images flashed in Kreia’s mind. Unlike the last time she had meditated here, they were all lovely. The Jedi temple on Coruscant was rebuilt, and bustled with activity. All of the Exile’s companions were all in some teaching commodity, except for Atton and Bao-Dur. “You travel with them for so long, yet you do not know them still. Feel them through the Force, feel what they feel, and hear their thoughts and know them as I fought to know you. They were the lost Jedi, you know. The true Jedi, upon which the future will be built. They simply needed a leader and a teacher.”  
“Tell me about Mira,” she asked.  
“She will stop hunting life and instead live it. She was not born to be a predator, despite her true father and the life she lived in the shadow of Nar Shaddaa. She will miss you and think of you often, you who awoke her to what life is. She will live, but only for a time. Her death will occur in many years on a forgotten planet saving the lives of others. But it will be her choice and she will have no regrets.”  
“And Visas? What of her?”  
“The blinded one shall return to her home world,” Kreia declared. “And she will look upon its surface and at least see what she was meant to see. Your meeting has affected her greatly, in ways that may not be felt for decades to come.”  
“Did I save her?” Meetra asked.  
“Salvation is a relative thing, but as you understand it, yes.”  
“And Brianna, what of her?” Meetra looked a little nervous.  
Kreia smiled as she reached out into her best friend’s daughter’s future. Ancient Jedi holocrons whispered to her, and she felt the grip of a strong lightsaber. There was a man’s face, but it was blurry, and Kreia could only sense that he was human. “If she leaves this place, she will leave battle behind her, in no small part due to your influence. She will take Atris’s place as historian, and teach others of the Jedi who gave up the Force and became stronger for it.”  
“And Mical?”  
“He cannot help but love you in his way,” Kreia gently explained. “It is a pure ideal love he holds, yet somehow, it never dulls in your presence or through your actions. If he leaves this place, he will leave the galaxy behind him. He will sit upon the new Council, reluctantly as all good men do, but he will not forget the Jedi who had lost the Force, yet showed him the way to reclaim it. After that, I do not know. I do know that you must leave him behind. The same choice that Revan made. Where you are destined, you must not take anyone that you love. And of the ones who travel with you, that is all that I see.”  
“But what about Atton?!” Meetra protested, worried.  
“Atton is, as always, the fool. And the Force watches out for ones such as him I feel, as it does for the old such as I.” She saw, but the images only made her certain that neither of them truly knew what they were doing.  
“Did he love me?”  
“He is a fool, and that should answer all your questions. He has nothing to offer one such as you. And even a fool such as Atton is not so ignorant of that fact.” Before Meetra could protest, she quickly added, “and yet, he would die for you, yes. I do not imagine one would die lightly for one one did not care about.”  
“And you? Did you love me?”  
“I would have killed the galaxy to preserve you,” Kreia admitted. “I would have let the galaxy die. You are more rare then you know, and what you have taught yourself must not be allowed to die. You are not a Jedi, not truly. And it is for that that I love you.”  
“And Bao-Dur and the droids?”  
“Their paths are unknown to me. Even the small one who waits for you near this place, I sense that it has one more journey left for you. You must go where Revan went, into the Unknown Regions, where the true Sith wait for us in the dark.”  
“But the Sith have already struck!” Meetra protested.  
“Have we?” Kreia chuckled. “You thought that the machines that Revan used to wage war on the Republic were the Sith. You are wrong, the Sith is a belief, and its Empire, the true Sith Empire rules elsewhere. Revan knew of its existence and left to fight it in his own way. And he left the Ebon Hawk and all its machines behind, because he knew he would not need them. And he left all loves behind no matter how much one might care for them.”  
“Why?” she asked, mystified.  
“Because such attachments would only bring doom to both of them in the places where he now walks,” Kreia replied simply. “It would have helped if he made her understand. But she was strong willed, that one, and did not understand war as Revan did.”  
“Then why did you not follow Revan?” Meetra demanded.  
“Because I did not know where he had gone,” Kreia admitted, something she now regretted was not succeeding in finding her former pupil. “If he had asked would I have followed, I do not know. But he will need warriors, Sith and Jedi, any that can be sent after him, for any who know the way. Perhaps you will follow, and do battle with him at the end of things.”  
“Rest now, Kreia,” Meetra said soothingly. “You’re time in this place is over.”  
And at last, Kreia, former Jedi and Sith, finally let herself become one with the thing she had once despised. The Force.


End file.
